A Red Leaf Falls
by Lotrfn
Summary: This is my version of how Thranduil lost his wife. It is a blend of book and movie universe but focusing primarily on their relationship and her story.
1. Chapter 1

**Author note: if you've read my story "Wine and the Fellowship" you may have noted Elrond mentioning that Thranduil held Elrond somewhat accountable for the loss of Thranduil's wife. This is the back story of that event as I imagine it. All characters belong to Tolkien. Thranduil's wife is an OC here. I find Thranduil and his family fascinating characters. I have read that the character of Legolas was a late addition to the Lord of the Rings-that might explain why we have extensive genealogies for numerous Hobbit families, the Kings and Stewards of Gondor, the descendants of Eorl the Young and the line of Durin but next to nothing about the House of Oropher-which is only three generations!**

A red leaf falls

1

Cyllessil shut the door to their chamber and leaned on it, smiling up at Thranduil.

"You cannot make that face when Lindir sings, Thranduil," she admonished.

Thranduil placed his hand on the door and leaned over his wife, pressing his forehead to hers gently. "I certainly can when he launches into one of those Noldor dirges."

Her eyes sparkled up at him "At least he didn't give us the Lay of Gil-Galad tonight, my love."

Thranduil stepped back with a very unkingly snort. "I should hope even he would know better than to sing that when I am in attendance." He pulled Cyllessil to him and wrapped his arms around her, resting his cheek on the top of her head. "I am much happier here in our room with you," he whispered into her red-gold hair.

Cyllessil squeezed him back then pulled out of his embrace to drag him to the balcony doors. She opened them and they stepped out into the night. Thranduil stood behind her, his arms around his wife, as they gazed up into the stars and autumn moon. The crisp night air rustled the leaves of the tree at the edge of their balcony as Thranduil took a deep breath and felt his Cyllessil relax in his arms.

"I miss our Greenwood," he said to her. "There just aren't enough trees here."

Cyllessil leaned her head back onto Thranduil's chest. "In a mood to go sit in this one for awhile?" she asked.

Thranduil laughed. "Are you sure you are only part Silvan, my queen?" He paused, resting his cheek on her hair again. "No, not tonight, melamin. Tonight I would rather sit by the fire with you." He guided her back in to the room.

She curled up on the floor in front of the glowing fireplace and Thranduil lay on the carpet, his head on her lap, gazing up at her deep blue eyes thoughtfully. "I think it is time for us to return home, Cyllessil."

She gently ran her fingers through his hair, feeling his body relax as she did so. "You've had enough Noldor hospitality?" she smiled.

He smiled back at her "I just want to be home, my love."

She nodded then raised an eyebrow at him. "You're not worrying about Legolas managing on his own, are you?"

He laughed. "No, I am not. He's more than capable and it is well needed practice for him." He grew silent then added "I do miss him though. I miss my halls, my trees." He gave her a sidelong look "Not to mention my elk," he added.

Cyllessil laughed and smacked Thranduil in the chest. "Your elk! Oh Thranduil, who is acting more like a Silvan now?"

He took her hand in his and rested it on his chest. His eyes gazed into the fire. "He knows my moods," he stated, causing his wife to burst in to laughter again. She leaned down and kissed his forehead lightly.

"As do I, my dear. As do I." She stroked his hair again. "You want to leave before the winter."

"I do, Cyllessil." He answered, looking up at her again. "If we do not leave soon we will be here through the winter, once the snows block the High Pass."

She nodded thoughtfully but did not respond. He sat up and moved to sit next to her, leaning into the chair behind them. He twined his fingers into hers. "But you are not ready to leave yet are you, my love?"

Cyllessil rested her head on Thranduil's shoulder and kept her eyes on the fire. "I'm not, Thranduil," she said finally. "It's been so good to be with Celebrian again. I hadn't realized how much I have missed her."

Cyllessil had grown up with Celebrian in Lothlorien. Perhaps he had not realized how many years it had been since his wife had seen her best friend. He put his arm around Cyllessil and pulled her closer. "I can stay," he whispered. "As long as Lindir doesn't sing the Lay of Gil-Galad I can stay as long as you want."

Cyllessil buried her face in his chest as she laughed again. Raising her eyes to his again, she brushed a strand of white gold hair behind his ear. "Why don't you go back to the Greenwood, my love, and I can stay here until the spring?"

"What?" he asked, sitting up and turning to face her. "And leave you here? Alone?"

"Thranduil!" Cyllessil shook her head. "Alone? How could I be alone with all the people Elrond has here?" She turned to face him and leaned against the chair. "Celebrian plans to go to Lothlorien to see her parents in the spring," she began, then stopped as she saw Thranduil's face cloud over and his eyebrows draw together. She pushed his chest with her hand. "Stop the worrying already, Thranduil. I need not go to Lothlorien with her." She gazed at her husband as his face settled into slightly less concerned lines and he grasped her hand again, tracing small circles on the back of it with his thumb. "If I stay until the spring," she continued patiently "I can set out with Celebrian, then journey north to join you again in the Greenwood."

Thranduil frowned. "Celebrian will take the Redhorn Gate to Lothlorien, Cyllessil. You will journey far south and then far north again if you set out with her. The High Pass would get you to the Forest Road more directly, my love. And more quickly." He gave her a puzzled look. "If you plan to journey south with Celebrian, is it not far better to make a visit to Lothlorien before you follow the Anduin north?"

"Could you spare me for that long, Thranduil?" she asked. "I would so love to visit there again, but I do not want to be away from you and Legolas for so long."

Thranduil gathered her in his arms and pulled her into his lap. "Melamin, it has been many long years since you last visited your home. Since before Legolas was born." He stroked her hair as he frowned at the fire. "I have kept you to myself, my love, and kept you from your home. I am sorry."

"Come now, Thranduil. Don't be so hard on yourself. Do you really think if I had wanted to go I would have hesitated to tell you?" He started to protest and she put her hand on his lips. "No, melamin, I will not have you blame yourself for this." She leaned in and kissed him gently. "I suppose I just wanted to keep you to myself as well, mela en'coiamin." She snuggled into his chest as he went back to stroking her hair.

"I have no objection to you visiting Lothlorien," he said after a long pause. "Celebrian will enjoy the company and I can see it has been too long you have been away." He kissed the top of her head and added "I will leave here before the winter snows but send word to me when you set out for Lothlorien and I will ride south to meet you there."

"Would you, Thranduil?" Cyllessil smiled up at him. "I would like that."

"I will, love of my life. I would do anything to make you happy," he answered.

"Anything?" she said giving him a sidelong look.

"Anything," he answered, laughing now as she pushed him down on the floor and leaned over to kiss him.

Thranduil stood on the steps of Elrond's house. He had taken leave of Elrond and Celebrian and now only Cyllessil and the bulk of the Greenwood guard he was leaving with her stood on the steps to see their party off. The few members of his guard that Thranduil was taking with him were already mounted on their horses and waiting for their King.

Elladan and Elrohir stood near, pointedly looking everywhere but at Thranduil. The Peredhel were to escort the King's small guard to the borders of Elrond's realm.

Thranduil was leaving the better part of their original escort with Cyllessil. She had argued that he needed them more than she did, as Elrond would send a large party to accompany his wife, including his twin sons and Glorfindel as well, but Thranduil insisted.

He held Cyllessil in his arms now, as he said farewell, kissing the top of her head as she hugged him to her. Looking up she smiled. "I shall miss you, my love."

"And I you, melamin. Cormamin niuve tenna'ta elea lle au'" He breathed the words as he leaned down to kiss her fervently on the mouth, causing the Peredhel to busy themselves with their horses.

"Amin mela lle." Cyllessil whispered back as the kiss ended. "Namarië, melamin. Give Legolas all my love," she added.

"All of it?" Thranduil asked, raising one eyebrow at her.

"Pe-channas!" she exclaimed with a laugh, grabbing the front of his tunic and pulling him to her to thoroughly kiss him again. "I have more than enough for you both," she laughed as she let him catch his breath.

Thranduil laughed with her, picking her up and spinning her around in his arms before he hugged her long and hard one last time. "Until the Spring, my love."

"Until the Spring," she repeated, smiling. He hurried down the steps and headed to his horse, near the twins.

"What are you two looking at?" he asked imperiously.

"Nothing, hir nin." Elladan answered with a smile and a look at his twin.

"I didn't think anyone could be worse than Ada and Naneth," Elrohir said, getting on his horse and giving Thranduil an amused sidelong look. "But I was wrong." He shook his head.

"One would think they were newly bonded, eh Elrohir?" Elladan said, winking at his twin brother.

"Instead of parents of a near thousand year old Elf!" Elrohir finished.

"Watch your mouths, you two!" Cyllessil called from the steps. "You still have to ride with him today!"

Thranduil raised his hand, placed in on his heart and bowed his head to his wife as she laughed at them from the steps. The small party moved away from the house at Thranduil's command, towards the path leading out of Imladris. "Your day will come, you scoundrels," Thranduil said to the twins, "Just wait."

Cylessil watched until they disappeared towards the mountain pass and then she went into the house. "Until the Spring, my love," she repeated to herself.

 _Cyllessil: red gold leaf_

 _Melamin: my love_

 _mela en'coiamin: love of my life_

 _Cormamin niuve tenna'ta elea lle au:' my heart shall weep until it sees you again_

 _Amin mela lle: I love you_

 _Namarie: farewell_

 _Pe-channas: idiot_


	2. Chapter 2

2

The messenger stood at attention as Thranduil opened the scroll from his wife and scanned it. "Will there be a response, your highness?" the messenger asked the King.

"Yes, of course." Thranduil replied. "Head to the kitchens and have Galion find you something to eat and drink. I'll have something for you to take back by the time you are finished."

The messenger bent one knee, hand to his heart and took his leave of the King.

Thranduil smiled at the scroll in his hand. Finally! Celebrian would finally be on her way to her parents and Thranduil was that much closer to seeing his wife again.

He could not remember a time when he had been so acutely aware of the slowness of the days passing as he had been this winter, with Cyllessil away. Legolas had threatened to make the King join the patrols just to get him to settle down. Thranduil had taken him up on some expeditions into the forest this winter, simply to keep himself distracted. He could not wait to see his Cyllessil again.

He settled himself at his desk to make his reply. He had just finished the missive and signed his name when a knock came on the door.

"Enter." Thranduil called, looking up expecting to see the messenger. Instead he saw his son lounging carelessly against the doorframe, an amused expression on his face.

"Looks like your message finally got here, Ada?" he asked with a grin.

"Insolent Pen-neth!" Thranduil growled good-naturedly. "Yes, your Naneth is finally getting underway with this adventure of hers."

"Then I am surprised you aren't in the stables getting your horse already, Ada." Legolas laughed as he came into the room and made himself comfortable in one of the chairs in front of his father's desk.

"No point in it," Thranduil stated. "They will not set out from Imladris until next week. They should reach the Redhorn Gate a week from when they set out."

"So you are leaving tomorrow then." Legolas replied, his eyes full of laughter as he took in his father's much more cheerful countenance. Thranduil had been on edge all these months without Naneth with him.

Thranduil looked sharply at his son, noticing Legolas looked ready to laugh. He sighed and smiled at his son. "I would gladly leave today, if only to see your mother sooner but I have no reason to get there early and wait. I have the longer road as I am going to meet them near the western edge of Lothlorien but even then I do not need to leave for a few days at least."

"So you will not follow the Anduin down to Lothlorien?" Legolas asked curiously.

Thranduil shook his head. "The Anduin will take me to the eastern edges of the wood. They will be coming from the west side. I plan to meet them there, near the Celebrant. I have no interest in traveling through Lothlorien itself to meet your mother."

"Meaning you have no interest in spending time with the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood without Naneth there with you." Legolas laughed.

"Isn't that what I said?" Thranduil replied, raising his eyebrows at his son.

A knock on the door interrupted them and Thranduil waved the messenger from Imladris in.

"Here is your message for the Queen Cyllessil, with my greetings." Thranduil said.

Legolas stood up rapidly from his chair and approached Thranduil's desk. "If you would give me a moment," he said, addressing the messenger. "I would add a note for you to take to my mother also." Taking parchment from Thranduil's desk Legolas quickly filled the page, folded and sealed it, and handed it to the waiting messenger.

"Safe travels to you." Legolas said to him.

"Thank you, my prince." The messenger bowed.

"Any trouble on the roads?" Thranduil asked, as he handed his own scroll to the Elf from Imladris.

"None on the High Pass, your highness," the messenger replied.

Thranduil frowned. "Have you heard of anything amiss further south?"

"No, hir-nin, I have not. There were stirrings north a few seasons ago, near Gundabad but nothing recent."

Thranduil nodded, his frown fading slightly. "Safe travels to Imladris," he said, dismissing the messenger.

Legolas studied his father's face as the messenger left. "Ada?" he questioned.

Thranduil shook his head. "It is nothing, ion-nin. The passes have been quiet. I just wanted to be sure there was no news."

Legolas nodded, a thoughtful look on his own face now. "You will leave soon then, after all."

"A few days. I want to cross the river near the Forest Road where there is a bridge. The Anduin will be in near flood stage with the spring melts upon us." Thranduil answered.

"Shall I prepare a full company to accompany you?" Legolas questioned.

Thranduil gazed thoughtfully at his son. "No," he said finally. "A smaller escort will do. A full company will just slow us down."

"Shall I come with you, Ada?" his son asked quietly.

Thranduil smiled at his son and walked around the desk to grasp him by the shoulder. "No, ion-nin. I need you here, running the kingdom."

Legolas raised an eyebrow at his father. "It practically runs itself, you know."

Thranduil grew serious again and squeezed Legolas' shoulder. "You know better than to say that, ion-nin. You know the work you do when I am not here is more than just ceremonial. The blight on the trees in the Southern reaches worries me. And the spiders have been more active this spring than I recall them being for years."

Thranduil turned to pace the length of his study. "If I had not promised to meet your mother I would take another expedition South to look at this blight again, now that it is spring. But I will speak to Celeborn and hear his thoughts on this when I am in Lothlorien. Perhaps he can tell if such was seen in Doriath of old."

"I will keep the watch, Ada." Legolas said.

"I know you will. Keep the patrols ranging when I am gone. I will try to get your mother back before Midsummer." Thranduil answered.

"She would hate to miss the Midsummer feast, Ada. I am sure you will be back long before then." Legolas responded. "I for one will eagerly await your return with her."

Legolas stood at attention before Thranduil, now a captain again rather than a son. "With your leave, sire, I will go to prepare your escort."


	3. Chapter 3

3

Thranduil set out with his escort. As he had predicted, the Anduin was in full flood so the Forest Road bridge served him well. The weather remained fine as they traveled and he was sure they would find the party from Imladris at the Celebrant, on the western edges of the Golden Wood.

It was mid-morning when the Greenwood party arrived at the Celebrant and they were within sight of the western edge of Lothlorien. Thranduil saw no signs of the Imladris Elves. The King sent outriders to the wood and towards the Mirrormere, near the Redhorn Gate, to scout.

The riders sent to Lothlorien returned first. "The Galadhrim expect the Lady Celebrian's party, my King, but they have not yet arrived." The rider reported to Thranduil.

Unable to suppress a growing sense of unease, Thranduil waited for the return of the riders who had ridden towards the mountain pass. His tension mounted as a few hours later he caught sight of those riders returning. Unlike the riders sent to the wood, these riders were pushing their mounts to their limits, riding as if a warg pack were on their heels, although Thranduil could see no sign of pursuit or other danger on the plain.

Worried now, Thranduil raced on foot towards the closest approaching rider, who threw himself off his horse and knelt before his King.

"Faervel." Thranduil barked. "What news?"

The elf raised his eyes to his King and Thranduil grew very still at the horror in the rider's eyes. "Hir-nin, there has been a battle near the Redhorn Gate." Faervel said, as the other rider arrived and slid off his horse to kneel in front of Thranduil.

Thranduil felt his heart beat speed up and a cold shiver ran through him. "A battle," he repeated. The other rider raised his head.

"Aye, my lord. There has been a battle with orcs near the pass. There are Elves of Imladris and the Greenwood among the dead."

"Take me there, Camaendir." Thranduil ordered, striding towards Faervil's horse and leaping on it. "Now!" he thundered. Camaendir was on his horse in an instant and turned his mount toward the pass. The captain of Thranduil's guard, Lossendir, barked orders to his guard and the Elves all rode out after their King.

Galloping at top speed Thranduil passed the Mirrormere and neared the foot hills of the Redhorn Gate. Bodies littered the ground. Mostly orcs. So many orcs. Thranduil's breath caught as he threw himself off the horse and ran amongst the carnage. Orc carcasses were strewn across the blood soaked ground but Thranduil could see the brown and green of his Greenwood guard amidst the black and he caught sight of raven-haired Noldor dead as well.

This was Cyllessil's escort his mind screamed at him. He did not see her, nor did he see Celebrian or the Peredhel.

"My King!" Lossendir called from the northern edge of the pass. Thranduil picked his way through the bodies as he moved towards the Captain of his Guard, eyes scanning the dead. Suddenly he stopped, frozen.

"King Thranduil!" Lossendir repeated. Thranduil stood and bent down, picking up a knife that glittered as it protruded from the throat of a dead orc. He knew that knife. He had given that knife to Cyllessil years ago and she wore it at her waist. He gripped it now with a white-knuckled hand.

"My King!" Lossendir called again, the desperate note in his voice finally reaching Thranduil. "There are tracks leading north!"

Thranduil, as if hearing him for the first time, darted towards the Captain and studied the marks on the soft spring grass. "A party of orcs, your highness. Headed north." Lossendir paused. "They appear to be warg riders with horses in pursuit."

"We ride north' Lossendir. Get me my horse. Send a rider to Lothlorien with word but the rest of the company rides north with me. They have my wife, Lossendir!"

Lossendir vaulted onto his horse, barking orders as he wheeled the steed around and within moments the Greenwood company was thundering north.

Cyllessil rode next to Celebrian, smiling at her friend's stories of their youth in Lothlorien. Her eyes periodically scanned the horizon ahead and the mountain pass around them. Glorfindel rode near the front and Celebrian's sons rode behind, the rest of the mixed escort of Greenwood and Imladris Elves ranged around them. She knew they were near the end of the pass and the way would widen soon, as they reached the plain near Mirrormere, to follow the Celebrant down to the Golden Wood.

She smiled to herself. She was looking forward to seeing Galadriel again and to the tranquility of Caras Galadhon. Her smile grew broader. Knowing Thranduil, she was sure she would find him waiting at the entrance to the wood. She looked forward to seeing her husband again.

The company made their way down the last stretch of mountain path and reached the green grass that would lead to the river. The sun was setting and Cyllessil expected Glorfindel to soon call a halt to make camp. Close though they were to the wood she did not expect he would have them ride there in the dark.

She heard the whine of the crossbow bolt before she saw it strike her mount in the throat. The horse reared as a second bolt caught it in the belly and Cyllessil knew her mount was going down. The air around her was suddenly thick with arrows and guttural shrieks came from all sides.

She could hear Glorfindel bellowing in front and she saw the Peredhel ride to either side of Celebrian as Cyllessil threw herself off her dying horse. She backed towards Celebrian, ripping her knife from her belt and grabbing another from her boot, giving thanks to the Valar that she always traveled in Silvan tunic and leggings, rather than the elaborate robes Celebrian wore.

She could see running orcs and warg riders on all sides. Celandir, part of her Greenwood guard, who had been at her side a moment ago, was almost cut in two in front of her. Eldir rode to her, reached his hand out and swiftly pulled her up behind him. She could hear Celebrian begin to scream.

Their company was overrun. She could see the horses rearing and falling. It seemed these orcs were targeting the horses first, their fallen riders being easier prey. She could see one headed directly towards them, his curved blade moving towards the throat of Eldir's horse. Without even thinking she threw her blade and it lodged in the orc's throat as he fell to the side.

The horse reared and shied, Cyllessil clutching at Eldir now with her free arm to keep her seat. She stiffened as he suddenly thudded into her, then he went limp and to her horror she saw a cross bow tip protruding from his back, nearly grazing her own chest. His weight tipped left and she let go of his waist to keep from falling herself, his body falling to the ground and his unseeing eyes staring at the evening sky.

She was now cut off from the rest of the Elves, battling around her. She looked around frantically for Celebrian and found her yards away, her sons locked in battle on either side of her, almost hidden by the orcs surrounding them. She watched a crossbow bolt hit her friend's horse in the chest and the horse went mad. Celebrian was fighting to keep her seat and then went down so that Cyllessil lost sight of her.

Her distraction proved her undoing. As she turned to look around her again a warg rider came along side and the orc grabbed Cyllessil around the waist and pulled her to him. He threw her face down in front of him, on the warg's back. She still had her small knife in her hand so she stabbed at his leg. She felt a sudden thud on the back of her head and the world went dark.

When she woke up she found herself with her face lying on the side of the warg's neck, still slung over the back of the animal with the warg rider who had captured her. She had no idea how much time had passed although it appeared to still be night. She must have dropped her knife.

Cyllessil knew she had another knife in her left boot and one in the vambrace of her left arm. She knew she couldn't reach her boot but maybe she could get the one on her arm without falling off the warg. Maybe falling off the warg was actually the better option she thought to herself. Her head hurt.

She shifted her weight to reach her knife but a swift punch to her flank from the orc rider put a stop to her movements. They rode on into the night.

Hours later the warg stopped and Cyllessil was thrown to the ground by the rider. She could see other wargs and riders around her and to her horror she saw Celebrian thrown to the ground a few paces from her, a bloody cut on her forehead.

She barely had time to register her friend's capture and injury before an orc grabbed her by her tunic and dragged her to the entrance of a cave. An orc den. Cyllessil's heart stuttered as she realized what was likely in store for them. Why else would the orcs not have killed them already?

She was thrown roughly against a hard stone wall and then backhanded across the face as she landed near the ground.

Despite the darkness of the cave she could see well enough to see Celebrian being dragged in and thrown to the ground not too far from her, a kick to her abdomen from the orc who brought her in making her cry out.

The orcs gathered in front of the two Elves. A large one leaned so close to Cylessil's face that she could feel and smell his breath; he spoke to her for the first time in guttural Common Speech. "Now we have some fun!" he growled.


	4. Chapter 4

4

Thranduil leaned down to whisper to his horse. He knew he was pushing the animal to its limits but there were only so many hours of daylight left. He did not want to stop and he did not want lose the trail. He knew his elves could still track the wargs at night but it would be slower progress than they were making now.

From what he could tell of the trail it was likely not even a day since the warg riders had ridden north, followed by horses not far behind. Those likely had been the survivors of the orc attack. Thranduil clenched the mane of his horse as he blamed himself yet again for not setting out earlier from the Greenwood. Just one day earlier. Just a few hours earlier and he might have arrived before the attack. He whispered to the horse again. He needed more speed.

Elladan leaned down to whisper to his horse. He knew it likely wouldn't help, as the horse was bearing both him and Elrohir and likely could not give them any more speed. But he had to try. Somewhere out there in the night an orc pack had his mother. He couldn't spare the horse. He needed to find her. And fast.

His mind kept replaying the orc attack. They had not had any warning, not a sound, not a feeling, not a thing had seemed out of place. They had been outnumbered, but that had never been a problem before. These orcs were different. A combined attack on foot and with wargs. It had been many years since Elladan had seen warg riders. These orcs had tried to shoot or kill the horses under them. It wasn't like their usual uncoordinated attacks.

And that's why he was riding with Elrohir behind him. More than half their horses had been killed and what was left of the company was riding double in their chase of the wargs.

The last sight of his mother had been seeing her pulled up off the ground and thrown across the back of one of those wargs. If he hadn't seen it with own eyes he would not have believed it possible. She had been between them, sheltered by their horses and their bodies! Elladan blamed himself. If he had just reacted quicker, if he had just finished that orc off faster, if he had just . . .

"Stop it." Elrohir said from behind him.

"Stop what?" Elladan snapped.

"Blaming yourself. If we are going to apportion it, I'm as much to blame as you," his twin replied.

Elladan shook his head. "I don't understand it, 'Ro. They came out of nowhere. So many of them. I've never seen them shoot and kill the horses the way they did this time."

"Rather than us, you mean? I'd say there were still a fair amount of arrows and swords attacking us." Elrohir answered "We have lost more than half the company. And there isn't one of us, barring Glorfindel, that isn't wounded."

"When do you last remember them taking captives, 'Ro? Answer me that." Elladan countered.

Elrohir was silent for a few moments. "I don't remember them ever taking captives, 'Dan. Not since long before we were born, from the stories Ada tells."

"We've got to find her." Elladan paused. "Them, I mean. Naneth and Cyllessil." He bent to whisper to the horse again just as Glorfindel unexpectedly called a halt.

"Why are we halting?" Elrohir shouted at Glorfindel as he rode over to them, Mirdan swaying in the saddle behind the golden-haired elf.

"Can't keep up the pace this way. We're going to kill the horses and we've wounded among us who can't keep riding like this. We have to stop." Glorfindel said.

"We can't stop. We have to follow those orcs before they, before they. . ." Elrohir started.

Glorfindel interrupted him. "Those of us who can ride will ride hard, single rider. We'll go faster that way. The rest we leave here. We can send riders back for them once we've found your mother and Cyllessil."

"The ones left behind will never survive another orc attack, Glorfindel." Elladan said, quietly looking at Mirdan.

Mirdan looked at Elladan with tired eyes. "We can't let them have the Lady Celebrian, my lord. We were part of this escort to keep her safe and we have failed her. I will not fail her further by hampering her rescue." He slid off the horse and looked up at Glorfindel. "We will do what needs to be done, Glorfindel. Find them."

Elladan nodded and slid off the horse. Moving quickly, he and Glorfindel took the least injured of their party and assorted them on the remaining horses.

"Isdir, you are in charge while I am away." Glorfindel said to the elf near him. Isdir was bleeding from a cut on his head and was holding his left arm close to his body.

"Yes Commander." Isdir said quickly. "I've got this. Find the Lady Celebrian, sir. And the Queen. Please." Glorfindel quickly patted Isdir's uninjured shoulder and mounted his horse. The rest of the small company mounted up and sped after the moonlit trail in grass.


	5. Chapter 5

5

Cyllessil wasn't sure when she had lost consciousness. She remembered pulling the knife from her other boot and plunging it into the chest of the orc leering at her. She had killed him instantly and she silently thanked the Valar she had listened to Thranduil's lessons all those years ago. She had kicked his body away from her and stood there, brandishing her knife at the orcs around her.

There were four that she could see in the cave. She wondered if she should pull out her second knife or keep it secret still, in case she needed it later. As the four orcs closed in on her she made her decision. She flipped the knife out of her vambrace and stood with knives poised, eyes on the orcs approaching her. She spun and lunged as curved swords and knives came around her, a slice getting her in the left upper arm. She was backed up to the cave wall with nowhere to turn. Well, she would try to take as many of these filthy orcs down before they finally got her.

She stabbed forward at the one to the left, slicing her knife across his throat. He fell on her feet and she felt her balance thrown off. Her left shoulder was on fire as a knife stabbed her. She whirled to the right and blocked a blade that was coming at her neck. She never saw the blade that whipped around and sliced her forearm from elbow to wrist. The knife fell from her numb hand and as she turned away she felt another knife slash her cheek open. A fist connected with her head and she went down to one knee, trying to clear her vision. The last thing she remembered was another fist coming straight at her face and then all was black.

Her head hurt. Her side hurt. Her arm hurt. There didn't seem to be a part of her that didn't hurt. Her arms were tied in front of her and she could feel the blood dripping down her slashed arm. Her shoulder still felt like a fire was blazing in it.

She heard a moan near her and opened her eyes, her vision blurring as she did so. Celebrian! She blinked her eyes to focus and could see her friend on the floor of the cave not far from her, what clothing she had left all ripped and bloody.

Celebrian's face was bruised on one side and she had a massive black eye on the other side. She wasn't moving and Cyllessil didn't think she was awake. She tried to sit up to crawl over to her when a blow hit her from the side, making her vision go black again for an instant.

"What do you think you're doing?" A harsh voice barked at her in Common Speech. She turned to see an orc behind her. "Guruk didn't get his fun with you but we had some sport with your friend there." He bragged, leering at her. She could see him fairly clearly, as light was filtering in from the cave entrance.

It must be day by now, she thought. The orc stood up and came nearer to her, then pulled his foot back and kicked her in the stomach, as she lay on the cave floor. "That's for Guruk." He paused, then kicked her again. "And that's for Hagluk." Cyllessil had to fight to breathe, all the air knocked out of her completely, leaving her gasping. He grabbed her by her hair, sat her up and backhanded her across the face. She fell to the floor again as she heard him say "And that's for me."

"That one awake finally, Thrark?" said a growling voice, as another orc shuffled over to her. She was glad to see he was cradling his left arm in his right. She hoped it had been her knife that had done that to him.

"Finally waking up, elf-bitch?" he asked, as the first orc pulled her up by her hair again.

Cyllessil said nothing, keeping her eyes on the floor in front of her.

"Time for some fun with this one, eh Thrark?" said the injured orc, as Cyllessil's hair was now used to pull her face up to look into his.

"You can play with this one later," said yet another voice as a third orc moved close to look at her. This one had a cut across his face and she hoped it was her mark again.

"I want to play with her now," said the one called Thrark. "I didn't get a turn with the other one before she went all limp. I like them fighting. And this one's got fight," he said as he leaned down and licked the bloody side of Cyllessil's face. She could not suppress a shudder as his tongue ran up her cheek and the stink of him filled her nose.

The third orc cuffed Thrark across the face as he stood up. "I said later. Those forsaken Elves you didn't kill are following us. Did you think they'd just let us take these precious morsels and go?"

Cyllessil held her breath. Someone was left alive. Someone was coming for them. She tried to clear her vision to get a better look at the cave entrance but for some reason things were even blurrier than they had been. Her mouth felt dry. Her head hurt but her arm burned her. It felt like fire from her shoulder to her wrist but the rest of her felt so very, very cold. She shook her head again to try to clear it but suddenly there was darkness at the edges of her sight, as if she were looking down a long tunnel.

"Take them deeper in the cave," said the third orc to Thrark. "We can't run in the blasted noonday sun but we can hide in here until dark and maybe those Elves will pass us by and follow the warg trail. Just keep quiet. No playing with the prisoners." He growled at the two orcs.

"Where'd those bloody wargs go?" asked Thrark. "They're the fastest way to get back to Gundabad."

"They went to feed. Bloody well jiggered we didn't let them feast on horseflesh and fresh elf last night," the orc answered, "They'll be back by nightfall. And maybe they'll get their fresh meat today if they run into those Elves." He laughed with a guttural sound.

Cyllessil was starting to shake from the cold. There was no question in her mind now. At least one of the blades that had cut her was poisoned. Her hands were going numb and she could hardly feel her feet. As Thrark came near to drag her further back into the small cave she realized she was seeing two of him and her tunnel vision was now double vision. He dropped her near a wall further back, then came and dropped a limp Celebrian next to her.

Cyllessil tried her best to look at her friend but it was hard to focus on her with the double vision. Celebrian's left eye was swollen shut and there was a swollen cut with blackened edges on her left arm. Likely poison there as well Cyllessil thought, as the cave around her began to spin.

The three orcs moved to the back of the small cave, placing themselves on either side of Cyllessil and the third next to Celebrian. Cyllessil tried to listen for noises outside the cave. She closed her eyes to concentrate on her hearing, focusing all her energy on that, as her vision certainly wasn't helping anymore. She tried to control her shivering.

If someone had survived they would see the trail leading to this cave, surely they would follow it and find them. But these orcs seemed convinced the warg trail would be the one followed. That's why the need for silence and for moving back from the cave's entrance. They didn't want to risk any passing Elves hearing anything and searching out this cave. Cyllessil was determined to give any passerby something to bring them to this cave. If she could only think of what to do. And when to do it.

Thrark was next to her. She could feel his breath on her neck and felt him leaning into her. She kept her eyes closed as she felt him lick her bloody cheek again. "That tastes sweet," he rasped into her ear, as she shuddered. "Just a taste now. I'll save the rest of you for later," he added, moving even closer to her.

"Garn! Shut your mouth, Thrark!" hissed the orc on Cyllessil's other side. "I want this elf-bitch quiet. I told you no playing with the prisoners!" Thrark wordlessly hissed back at the other orc but made no move to touch Cyllessil again.

"And if you're thinking about making any noise, elf-bitch," said the other orc, leaning close to Cyllessil's ear, "Think again," he added. Cyllessil's eyes flew open as she felt his knife blade touch the side of her chest. "I'll gut you like a fish. Thrark can still play with you after you're dead," he threatened. Cyllessil put her head on her knees and shut her eyes again.


	6. Chapter 6

6

Thranduil could see figures on the plain far ahead. They did not look like orcs. They looked like Elves and that made his heart pound harder in his chest.

His disappointment washed over him like a cold wave as they finally approached and he realized his wife was not among these Elves. There were only a few and all of them were wounded, some it seemed far more seriously than others. He saw two of his Greenwood guards that he had left with Cyllessil. Thranduil slid off his horse and ran to Thurinor, who was kneeling on the ground next to Nestion.

"Thurinor!" he said to the kneeling elf. Thranduil spared a quick glance at Nestion and saw to his dismay his eyes were closed.

"My King." Thurinor said, attempting to stand.

"No, Thurinor, do not stand. Tell me what you know. Where is my wife?" Thranduil asked.

"We were attacked by a large group of orcs and warg riders at the end of the pass last night. They killed half the escort and captured Lady Celebrian and the Queen." Thurinor looked into Thranduil's eyes miserably. "I have failed you, my King."

"How many orcs, Thurinor?" Thranduil asked, keeping his voice as steady as he could manage.

"There must have been at least a hundred, my King." Thurinor said quietly. "There were twenty of us in the escort. We thought it would be enough."

Thranduil briefly closed his eyes then spoke again. "We did not bring twenty when we traveled to Imladris, Thurinor. Twenty should have been more than enough. But where are the Peredhel, Thurinor? They are not here and they were not among the dead." Thranduil looked around him.

"The Peredhel, Glorfindel, Madirion and our Randir were the least injured. They took the horses left to us and rode after the warg riders." Thurinor replied.

Thranduil gripped Thurinor's shoulder. "Nestion?" he asked, looking down at his guard.

Thurinor shook his head. "Some of the blades were poisoned, my King. We are too far from any healers who can help him now."

Thranduil nodded. "I will leave one of my riders with you. Word has been sent to Lothlorien. My hope is they will send a company to bear you there." Thranduil paused. "The rest of us ride north."

He turned away from Thurinor and Nestion, barked out orders to his men, then climbed onto his horse and spurred the company north along the trail.

What was left of the Imladris escort galloped after the warg trail. Elladan could tell his horse was nearly spent. They had ridden through the night, the light of the full moon letting them follow the tracks in the grass as if it were daylight. Now it was full daylight, almost mid-day.

The trail here ran closer to the foothills of the Misty Mountains to their left, continuing to head due north. He wondered if these orcs were headed to the High Pass or to Gundabad even further north. They had to find them before they headed into the mountains or to some cave tunnel. Tracking them there would be much harder, if not impossible.

If his horse was nearing exhaustion the wargs must be spent also, he thought. They had not stopped, based on the tracks Glorfindel was following. Elladan doubted the orcs were as encouraging to their mounts as he was to his horse, so the warg riders had to stop sometime. He hoped it would be soon. He doubted the horses could keep going at this rate. If they had to leave the horses and resort to running it would slow them down even more. He didn't want to think about that possibility.

There had been no time to tend to injuries among the Elven wounded and it was fair to say that the entire company was wounded. Elladan had swiftly bandaged Elrohir's left arm and his twin had done the same for the shallow wounds on Elladan's chest and the far deeper one on his left thigh so they could ride last night. Glorfindel's earlier halt had not been long enough to tend to anyone and Elladan hoped the Elves they had left behind had survived to see this new day.

He saw Glorfindel raise his hand up ahead and the small company of Elves came to a swift and silent stop. Elrohir and Elladan rode next to Glorfindel, who slid off his horse and motioned to them to follow. Elrohir scanned the trail and the surroundings rapidly, then dismounted as well.

Startled, Elrohir realized why Glorfindel had stopped where he had. The warg trail was muddled up ahead, as if the wargs had finally stopped to rest. Tracks circled back and forth, but then resumed a similar trail, headed more to the east than before. But there was as side track—made by feet—leaving the main warg trail and veering to the left. To the mountains. Could the orcs and wargs have separated?

Elrohir put his hand on his brother's shoulder, then bent down to study the footprints himself. He looked up at Elladan, who nodded and moved ahead along this new path, silently unsheathing his sword as he went. Glorfindel, who had jogged up ahead to scout the warg tracks, returned to the Peredhel and now motioned for the other two riders to dismount. As they approached the golden haired warrior Glorfindel touched Madirion on the shoulder and motioned to the horses. So he was to stay and mind the mounts. He nodded and made his way to gather the horses together, hushing their nickers and neighs swiftly.

Glorfindel next touched Randir's shoulder in the same manner but tilted his head in the direction of the Peredhel. Silently they followed the rapidly moving Peredhel ahead, Randir adjusting his bow and fitting an arrow at ready as they walked.

Elrohir saw it. The short trail looked as if it led directly to the mountain itself but he could see the undulation of the rock and then a dark, narrow cave opening. As the others reached him he pointed it out and the four Elves separated into two groups, melting away from the trail and hugging the rocks on each side as they made their way towards the entrance.

Cyllessil had her head on her knees, eyes closed, trying to concentrate on her hearing rather than the knife pressed to her. Her feet were completely numb and her hands now were as well. She was cold, so very cold. She had never known cold like this. She steadied her breathing and focused.

There! She thought she heard a sound outside. Could it be a horse? She risked a sidelong look at the orcs on either side of her, keeping her head down. Neither seemed concerned or to have heard but she was sure she had heard a faint sound coming from outside the cave. Legolas had always complained that she could hear him thinking up mischief from across the halls of the palace, but all joking aside she knew her hearing was far better than most.

Legolas. She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her numb fingers. She let her thoughts briefly dwell on her only son and her heart thumped in her chest as she realized she had probably seen him for the last time. The poison in her was far gone. Even if the sound was the Elven guard, they were miles away from healers who could help her. She opened her eyes to take a quick look at Celebrian. Her vision was even more blurred than before but it seemed Celebrian still breathed.

She closed her eyes again. It was worth trying she decided. If that sound was possible rescue at least Celebrian might be saved. She wasn't sure if Celebrian's unconsciousness was due to the poison. Cyllessil was more afraid it was due to the orc's activities during the night. If Celebrian had withdrawn into herself to escape their horrors she would have already started to fade. Neither of them had time anymore.

Cyllessil took a deep breath. If she was going to do this she would try to take at least one orc down with her.

She lifted her arms up rapidly and placed her tied hands over Thrark's head and over his throat, then pulled him to her as tightly as she could in an attempt to choke him. She let out a screaming cry in Sindarin as she crushed him to her "I am Cyllessil. I am here!" and then felt the knife plunge into her chest from the other side, causing her cry to falter.

"I told you to keep your mouth shut, elf-bitch!" growled the orc as he pulled his knife from her chest and stabbed her again. She couldn't catch her breath. Her hands stayed tight around Thrark's neck as he struggled against her but she couldn't stay sitting up. Thranduil would have said to go for the one with the knife she chastised herself, as her vision began to fade to gray.

Gray. Like Thranduil's gray eyes. She saw his face as the darkness came over her. She could almost feel the silkiness of his hair as it brushed her face whenever he kissed her. Thranduil. "Gellon ned i gelir i chent gin ned i lelig, hir vuin. Namarie," she whispered as all faded to black. (I love to see your eyes shine when you laugh, my beloved lord. Farewell.)


	7. Chapter 7

7

Elladan and Elrohir were on either side of the cave entrance when they heard the scream and then heard it swiftly cut off. Swords drawn, they burst into the cave, not heeding Glorfindel's bellow behind them. Elrohir sliced the orc that moved towards him almost in two as Elladan ran the one on the left through the chest with his sword.

Elladan fell to his knees beside Celebrian, as Elrohir moved to Cyllessil's fallen form.

The orc she had clearly been trying to strangle as she fell still struggled in her now loose grasp, tongue lolling from his mouth. Elrohir put his sword point directly over the orc's chest and gently lifted her limp arms from around his neck. Randir thrust his bow over his shoulder and dropped his arrow as he ran to lift his Queen into his arms to carry her outside.

Glorfindel knelt next to Elladan. "Does she live?" Elladan nodded and bent to pick up his mother's limp form and carried her out of the cave. Glorfindel then rapidly moved to Elrohir, who was still pressing his sword point onto the fallen orc's chest.

"Where do you come from?" Elrohir hissed at the orc in the Common Tongue. The orc glared at him but didn't attempt to move. He gave no reply. Glorfindel laid his sword by the orc's neck and without looking at Elrohir spoke to him in Sindarin. "See to Cyllessil and your mother and leave this one to me."

Elrohir's grip on his sword tightened. "Vengeance is mine, Glorfindel. This one is for me to kill." Glorfindel laid his free hand on Elrohir's shoulder, never taking his eyes off the orc. "Elrohir. Go see to Cyllessil and your mother." he repeated. "Please. There is no one here with as much healing skill as the two of you. It will all be for naught if we lose them now." He gripped Elrohir's shoulder tightly once and gave him a push.

Elrohir raised his eyes to look at Glorfindel, but the Balrog-slayer's eyes were fixed on the orc in front of him. Elrohir turned and left the cave to find his brother.

Glorfindel moved his sword directly over the orc's heart. "Now, you were about to tell me where you come from?" he asked again.

Elrohir stepped in to the sunshine outside the cave and spotted Elladan and Randir not far from the cave entrance, bent over the rescued captives.

"Naneth?" he questioned his brother.

"See to Cyllessil, 'Ro. I've got Naneth but I fear Cyllessil may be worse off." Elladan answered.

Elrohir dropped to his knees next to Randir, who was cradling Cyllessil's head in his lap. He took her wrist and felt her pulse, faint but very fast. Her eyes were closed and he caught a faint tinge of blue to her lips.

His rapid primary survey of her injuries made his stomach clench. Head injury, no question about that. The stab wounds in her side were still bleeding and he was sure at least one had reached her lung, very likely puncturing it. The wound on her shoulder was even more concerning. The shoulder itself was swollen and an angry looking red; it was the blackness in her skin spreading from the stab wound that worried him. This was poison. He noted the forearm wound, stretching from wrist to elbow. He could stitch that easily but even if he had the time he wouldn't dare. The edges of that were also black with poison.

He could see Cyllessil was shivering, although her skin was hot to the touch. That was likely due to the poison as well. He thought about what he had with him in the healing pack at his waist, knowing it wouldn't be enough. Focus, he told himself. Think about what Ada would do. He took a deep breath. There was nothing he could do for her lung, out here in the wild. He ripped a length of cloth from his cloak and had Randir help him bind it around her chest. That would stem the bleeding, if nothing else.

He had herbs with him that could work on her fever and he knew Elladan had athelas in his pack. That might at least slow the poison for a bit. But they needed hot water, which meant they needed a fire.

"Elladan."

"What?" his brother snapped at him.

"We need a fire. I need to get Cyllessil to drink something. She's burning with fever from the poison."

Elladan's head whipped around to glare at his brother. "A fire? Out here? We can't risk it,'Ro. We've got to get them to Ada."

"Cyllessil won't make it to Ada if we don't do something now, 'Dan." Elrohir insisted. "The poison's pretty far gone. I'm sure that orc filth stabbed her when she shouted out to us. I think it got her lung. I'd risk just riding straight off if it was one or the other but with both, I don't think she's going to make it if I don't do something now!"

He heard Randir make an unintelligible sound at his words and saw him touch Cyllessil's shoulder gently.

"Do what now?" Glorfindel asked, coming to stand over Elrohir.

"Glorfindel, it's bad. The blades that got her were poisoned. I think her lung has been punctured and I know she has a head injury as well." Elrohir looked up at Glorfindel. "If I don't get some medicine in her for the fever and some athelas for the poison she won't make it through the day, much less back to Ada."

"Elladan, what's the report on your mother's injuries." Glorfindel asked, not answering Elrohir.

Elladan looked up at Glorfindel then and Elrohir felt his fear build when he saw the look of utter devastation in his brother's eyes.

"Poisoned wound. Head injury. And . . ." he paused, his jaw clenching. "And she is fading," he finally stated, turning his gaze back down to his mother.

"Fading?" Elrohir moved across to his mother now at Elladan's words and grasped her limp wrist. He looked at her for the first time clearly. He took in the wounds on her face and arms, then realization came as he saw the state of her clothing and the stains left. Elrohir felt his hands begin to shake.

"Randir!" Glorfindel took charge. "Start a fire. Those wargs won't be back til sundown. We can spare the time. We've got water in our water skins. I won't waste time searching for water now." He laid a hand on Elrohir's shoulder. "We can fill them on the road. For now do what you can with what we have. We've got to get them to your father." He shook Elrohir's shoulder. "You heard me. Get the medicines going."

"The orc?" Elrohir questioned Glorfindel, as he started to rummage in his waist pack for the supplies he needed.

"Won't have much to say ever again." Glorfindel stated. "Before I killed him he happened to mention the wargs are expected back tonight. They've gone to feed. We need to be gone long before that."

He squatted down next to Elrohir and gently stroked Cyllessil's hand. "Do what you can now, Elrohir. We've got to get them to your father."

Elrohir nodded silently, then moved to where Randir was starting a small fire.

Glorfindel moved to Elladan and knelt beside him, near Celebrian's head. "Elladan."

Elladan did not look up as he wrapped Celebrian's arm with a torn of piece of cloth.

"Elladan." Glorfindel repeated. "There is nothing more we could have done. We got here as fast as we possibly could."

Elladan raised his eyes to glare at Glorfindel. "They should never have been able to capture her. I was right there! 'Ro was right there! I never even saw them take her until it was too late."

Glorfindel met Elladan's glare with his calm blue eyes. "This is not helping either of them now, Elladan. Do what you can and let's get them to your father. It's her best chance and you know it." He stood up. "I'm going to check on Madirion and the horses. They haven't had as much rest as they need but we must ride again soon."

Madirion and the horses were within sight, near the tracks where Glorfindel and the company had left them. "My lord?" Madirion asked. "I heard shouting."

"We found the orcs, Madirion. And my lady and the Queen." He paused and looked at the plain around them. "We must tend to their injuries." He spoke again at Madirion's expression. "They are both badly wounded. We will do what we can quickly and then we must ride again." Glorfindel continued scanning the horizon and then stopped, his eyes focused south.

"Someone comes," he said to Madirion. Madirion turned to look in the same direction. "They are far off but should reach us, likely sooner than would suit us." Glorfindel continued to stare into the distance. "I cannot make out who is following us just yet. Let us bring the horses off the trail until we can see more clearly. If we can see them they will soon be able to see us." Glorfindel moved to his horse; he and Madirion directed the horses towards the nearby shadow of the mountain foothills, where the rest of their party lay. "We dare not leave now. I would not wish to be in sight of an enemy behind us," he added, as he moved swiftly to join the Peredhel.


	8. Chapter 8

8

Thranduil thought he caught some movement far ahead. It was too far too see clearly but something was there. He stroked his horse's neck and bent to whisper to him yet again. He knew the horse sensed his agitation and he silently thanked him as he felt the animal's gait speed up just a fraction.

They continued to ride, as the sun moved overhead, mid-day passing into afternoon.

There was no sign of any other riders ahead that Thranduil could see now. The trail was still clear but as he followed it ahead he realized there was a change. He raised his hand and the company slowed to a halt.

He dismounted quickly and looked at the trail, Lossendir joining him. "The warg tracks are muddled here, Lossendir." Thranduil stated, catching sight of the path branching off, as Glorfindel had earlier in the day. He brought his voice down to a bare whisper in Lossendir's ear. "Orc tracks leave the main trail. Leave a guard with the horses here. We follow this track now." Lossendir nodded and moved slightly away. Thranduil drew his two swords, as his men moved behind him, ready to follow this new trail.

"Hir-nin." said a voice and Thranduil froze. It was coming from ahead, not behind. Some thick hedges hugged the mountain as the trail curved around. Thranduil stared into the hedges, motioning for his men to hold behind him. He wanted no stray arrows flying yet. Thranduil gazed in shock as Randir materialized from the hedge to run to him and kneel at his feet, hand on his heart.

"Randir," Thranduil's voice broke on the name.

"Forgive me, my King." Randir bowed his head briefly then looked up at Thranduil. "Come my King, the Queen is here." And Randir lightly came to his feet, motioning Thranduil to follow him.

Thranduil felt his heart begin to race as he followed his guard around the mountain curve only to feel it seem to stop beating as he saw what lay behind that edge.

"Cyllessil." He breathed, racing ahead to throw himself down on the ground next to the unconscious form of his wife, barely registering that Glorfindel and the Peredhel were there.

"Thranduil!" Glorfindel grasped his shoulder tightly. "Thank the Valar you have found us. I had not hoped to find help along this road."

"Cyllessil." Thranduil repeated, his wife's hand enclosed in his one hand as his other stroked her forehead gently.

"Thranduil. She's seriously injured." He heard Elrohir next to him. "I've done what I can but we've got to get them to Ada." Thranduil had already felt the heat of her skin and seen the tinge of her lips. His heart had started pounding again at seeing her eyes stay closed, even as he said her name. He moved quickly, lifting Cyllessil into his arms and turning to face Glorfindel.

"You are making for Imladris?" He asked bluntly, cradling his wife's limp body to his chest, his eyes scanning and then stopping on Celebrian's form just a few feet away.

Glorfindel nodded. "Lothlorien may seem closer but the way through the High Pass will get us to Elrond faster." He paused. "We need to get them to Elrond, Thranduil. Their injuries are many but I fear the poison is what we cannot treat out here in the wild."

Poison. Thranduil's grip tightened on Cyllessil as his mind went blank to all but that word. He shook his head to clear it and looked at Glorfindel again. "I sent a rider to the Golden Wood. They should have found the ones left behind by now." Thranduil said, glancing at the position of the sun.

"Then we ride together to Imladris." Glorfindel turned his head. "Madirion, douse the fire." He turned back to Thranduil. "The orcs we have killed but the wargs are likely to return by sundown. We must not wait."

Thranduil nodded and moved to take Cyllessil to his horse. Glorfindel gripped his shoulder to make him pause. He stared into Thranduil's eyes, concern, kindness and sadness shining through. "Thranduil, I cannot promise you she will make it to Imladris," Glorfindel confided quietly. "I cannot be sure either of them will," he said, with a quick glance at Celebrian, Elladan now carrying her as Thranduil held Cyllessil.

Thranduil stared back at Glorfindel. "Thank you for rescuing my Cyllessil, Glorfindel. I am in your debt for that." He nodded his head briefly at the golden-haired elf. "Now let's get on the road," he added, moving towards the original trail and the horses waiting there.

The combined company took some time to get settled on horseback. Elrohir gave Thranduil a brief account of Cyllessil's injuries and his concerns, as Thranduil settled his wife in front of him and held her unconscious form to his chest in preparation for the ride.

"How fares Celebrian?" Thranduil asked Elrohir when he was done cataloguing Cyllessil's state. He could see Elladan positioning himself in a similar fashion on his horse, Celebrian cradled in front of him. Thranduil caught a brief look pass over Elrohir's face—anger, horror, fear—before he schooled his features to answer Thranduil.

"Much like Cyllessil." He answered shortly, then paused, his jaw clenching and his eyes narrowing briefly. "I fear she may be fading," he finished in a lower voice, meeting Thranduil's eyes quickly, before gazing at his mother again.

Thranduil flinched at the words and held Cyllessil tighter to him. He had not seen much of Celebrian, other than to note her damaged face as Elladan had lifted her. She was wrapped in a cloak and he could see little more now.

He had tried not to think of that possibility as he rode to find his wife. Had tried to keep it from his mind, knowing he could lose all control if he let his mind go that way. He knew that orcs rarely took captives and what it often meant when they did. He had shuddered from that thought earlier and it nearly overwhelmed him as he thought it now. But Cyllessil's clothing had been intact he said to himself, repeating it in his mind. He raised his eyes to Elrohir's and saw the Peredhel shake his head slightly.

"Not Cyllessil," he said to Thranduil, as if reading his thoughts. "It seems they were content to use only their knives and fists on her." He paused. "It looked as though she tried to fight them off. She had killed at least two in the cave that I saw and was set to strangle a third when we got there."

Thranduil gazed down at his wife and sighed gratefully. She had been spared that at least. He could not imagine she had not fought them. He knew she had killed at least one orc during the battle, his thoughts going to the knife he had found in the orc's throat earlier.

Elrohir's words came back to him then. "Not Cyllessil," he repeated, suddenly shooting his eyes to Elrohir's. "But Celebrian. . .?" he questioned.

Elrohir nodded. "I believe it is why she fades."

Thranduil's eyes softened as he looked at Elrohir. "I am so sorry, mellon-nin. I do not know what to say but I know I can never thank you enough for saving my wife."

Elrohir sighed. "I cannot forgive myself for allowing her to be captured, hir-nin. The least I could do was get her back." He looked around. "And I cannot guarantee I have saved her. We must get to my father. Glorfindel!" he called. "Are we ready to ride?"

Glorfindel approached them. "We make for Imladris through the High Pass. Do not spare the horses." He moved to the head of the company and raised his arm. "Now we ride!"


	9. Chapter 9

9

"Come in." Elrond called, as he heard a knock on his study door. The door flew open to his surprise and Erestor strode in, his face in turmoil.

Elrond came to his feet "Erestor, what is amiss?" It was rare to see Erestor so disturbed.

"Elrond, a messenger from the border just came. The Imladris company that set out with Celebrian is arriving."

"Arriving? But they should still be in Lothlorien, Erestor." Elrond began then stopped as realization came. "What has happened, Erestor?" He gripped Erestor's forearm.

Erestor shook his head. "All I know is that they are returning and that Celebrian and Cyllessil are with them. As is Thranduil." Erestor looked at Elrond with a worried expression.

Returning with Celebrian? And how was Thranduil with them if he was to meet them in Lothlorien? Elrond's head was spinning but a deep dread was washing over him. He picked up his robes and ran to the front of his house, calling to Erestor as he ran. "I will go meet them, Erestor!" he said, before he realized his friend was right behind him.

He reached the front door and passed the waiting messenger. Outside he spotted the messenger's horse and vaulted onto it, not waiting to find one from the stable. He rode hard down the path.

His thoughts along the ride had still not adequately prepared him for what he found: a ragged company of Elves, most riding double, with horses that looked near death. Glorfindel looking spent. His sons pale shadows of themselves, Elladan cradling a bundled figure in his arms. And Thranduil. Elrond had not seen despair like that in an Elf's face for more than an age he thought, as he met Thranduil's eyes over the limp body of Cyllessil in his arms.

"Elrond!" Glorfindel called and pushed his horse to come to Elrond's side. "Elrond." He repeated, then came to attention and gave his report. "We were waylaid by a large company of orcs and warg riders at the Redhorn Gate. We were near overcome and Lady Celebrian and the Queen were captured. Those of us who could ride pursued and found them the next day. They have both suffered grievous injuries, Elrond. It is only the healing skills of your sons that have kept them alive to reach you here. Thranduil found us on the road and he and his guard have escorted us here." Glorfindel looked at Elrond sorrowfully. "I take full responsibility for this, Elrond. I have failed you."

Elrond stared at Glorfindel, at a complete loss for words. "I am sure you did all you could and more, my friend." Elrond said hoarsely, his own voice sounding far away and different to him. He looked to his sons and the expressions on their faces now mirrored what he had seen in Thranduil's and the fear came on him more intensely than it did with Glorfindel's words alone. "Bring them to the house quickly. I will get the healers." Elrond spurred his mount and rode back to the house, shouting orders as he slid off his horse.

Thranduil sat at Cyllessil's side as the healer examined her again. His heart sank as he saw that her arm was now black from shoulder to wrist. Her breathing was shallow and far too rapid. He had heard that as he carried her in his arms and he knew she was still burning with the fever. As she lay on his chest on the ride he had felt the heat from her, even through his clothing.

He gazed at Cyllessil's face, wishing she would open her eyes so that he could see them again. Her face had thinned and her lips were far bluer than he expected. The realization that she might truly die was one he had been fending off for days, focusing on the ride and keeping her stable on horseback. But as he looked at her now and allowed himself to really see her, he realized that she was dying. She was dying and there was nothing he could do about it.

His eyes flew to the healer and he saw the same realization in the healer's face.

"Your highness," the healer began, pausing as Thranduil threw his hand up to stop him.

"Is she going to die?" Thranduil asked bluntly. "Answer me that."

The healer looked down at Cyllessil and then raised his eyes to Thranduil's. "I am sorry, hir-nin. There is no more that I can do. What happens now is in the Valar's hands." Thranduil reached for Cyllessil's hand as the healer spoke, tracing circles on the back of it as his mind tried to take in the healer's words.

"Where is Elrond?" he asked finally. "I haven't seen him since this morning."

"I am here, mellon," came a tired voice from the doorway. Elrond leaned on the doorframe, eyes weary and new lines on his face that Thranduil had never seen before. "I am here," he repeated.

"How is Celebrian?" Thranduil forced himself to ask, knowing Elrond was as distraught about his wife as Thranduil was about his own. He had to be patient. Elrond was going through the same thing, but being forced to be a healer as well as a husband, Thranduil reminded himself.

Elrond gazed at Thranduil, regret showing on his face. "I think I may have slowed the poison finally."

Thranduil's eyes blazed hopefully as he heard Elrond's words, although a part of his mind was wondering at his friend's expression. Elrond looked at Thranduil for a moment longer and then spoke again, softly. "Mellon, the poison isn't the main issue with Celebrian and you know that."

Thranduil knew then why there was regret on Elrond's face. He couldn't do anything more for the poison still in Cyllessil, he realized. "Elrond," he said, not recognizing the pleading tone in his own voice.

Elrond came into the room and examined Cyllessil as Thranduil looked on. When he had completed his evaluation, he nodded to the other healer still in the room and the healer took his leave of them.

Elrond sat down next to Thranduil and put his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Thranduil, nothing I have done has had any effect on this poison in Cyllessil's body. I cannot make it stop and I cannot lessen it." He paused. "There is nothing I have not tried, short of removing the source itself which would no doubt kill her just the same."

Thranduil buried his face in his hands. "Elrond, please," he begged. "What if . . ." he paused, hardly believing he was even suggesting this, "What if you took her arm?" he whispered between his fingers.

Elrond squeezed his friend's shoulder once before speaking. "Thranduil, it will certainly kill her if I even tried." He sighed. "I too have thought about this option. But the wound is so high and so close to her chest that I cannot. Her other lung is punctured still and not well functioning. If I attempt this she will likely lose use of this lung and that will kill her. And I doubt I will have even then removed all the source of the poison," he finished heavily.

"So there is no hope." Thranduil said, raising his head and looking at Elrond, tears gathering and flowing unheeded down his face. Elrond shook his head.

"She is burning from the inside, Thranduil. I cannot keep her temperature down. I cannot heal her lung. I cannot stem the poison. She doesn't have the strength to heal any of this herself anymore. It is too far gone." Elrond replied.

"What if she sails?" Thranduil asked, his voice a whisper.

"Mellon-nin," Elrond said, shaking his head, tears in his eyes now as well. "I do not think she will live through the day, let alone the trip to the Havens." Elrond whispered back.

Thranduil gripped the chair handles with ice-white knuckles, barely feeling the wood creak beneath his hands. "What must I do Elrond? What do I do?" he asked desperately.

Elrond laid his arm gently on Thranduil's forearm, feeling the tenseness of the muscles and the slight trembling coming from the King.

"Hold her until she goes and remember that you will meet again on different shores." Elrond replied, his voice edged with the sorrow he had at giving his friend these tidings. He had tried everything and he knew now, more than ever, that whatever else he did would simply cause her anguish and bring her end more quickly and more painfully. He knew Thranduil would not want that for his beloved Cyllessil.

He had never felt the limitations of his healing skills more than in the last two days. He was losing Cyllessil today, of that he was sure. But in his own mind, his thoughts hidden away from all others, he was coming to realize that he would likely lose Celebrian as well. Perhaps not today or tomorrow. He might succeed in healing her body but her spirit was beyond him. He could feel her pulling away through the healing bond he had with her and he feared, if she survived in body, she would leave him to sail.

He blinked his eyes and dragged his thoughts away from his internal turmoil and back to his devastated friend. He bent down and touched his forehead to Thranduil's, trying to send as much strength to his friend as he could spare. As he stood back up he looked down at Thranduil and stretched out his hand. "Come, mellon-nin, come hold your wife."

He pulled Thranduil off the chair and guided him to lay on the bed with Cyllessil on his lap, cradled in his arms. "Do you want me to stay, Thranduil?" he asked gently.

Thranduil placed his cheek on Cyllessil's red-gold hair. "No, Elrond. Go to Celebrian. Be with your wife." He closed his eyes and stroked his wife's hair. Elrond nodded, wiping a tear from his face as he gently closed the door behind him and walked back to where Celebrian lay.


	10. Chapter 10

10

He was still there, in the same position, hours later when Elrond came to check on Cyllessil again.

"Thranduil?" Elrond said quietly as he entered the room and approached the bed.

Thranduil raised his eyes and Elrond knew. The blankness he saw there told him what he would find in Thranduil's arms. He went to Cyllessil anyway. Her skin no longer burned and he could not find a pulse in her wrist or neck. He brushed his fingers lightly down her hair and sighed. "I am so sorry, Thranduil." Thranduil nodded and turned his gaze back to his wife.

"I felt her go, Elrond. I cannot feel her anymore."

Elrond nodded, although Thranduil could not see him do so. He sat down gently on the bed. "What would you have me do for you, my friend?" he asked. "Shall I send word to the Greenwood, to your son?"

Thranduil raised his face to Elrond, his expression still blank yet hard as steel. "No. I must tell my son myself."

"Very well, Thranduil. What else can I do?" Elrond repeated.

Thranduil continued to look at Elrond with the same blank expression. "Everything I ever needed is gone from me now, Elrond."

Elrond held his gaze. "When was the last time you slept, Thranduil? Likely not since you set out to find Cyllessil, more than a week ago. Let me take you to your chambers."

"What of Cyllessil?" Thranduil asked.

"I will have the healers take care of her body, Thranduil." Elrond paused. "The road to Greenwood is not short, my friend. Do you mean to take her there?"

Thranduil shook his head. "I do not know, Elrond. I feel like I do not know anything. I want to get on my horse and ride to my son. I want to get on my horse and find an orc pack and kill them all. I want to ride to the Havens and rid myself of this pain." Thranduil closed his eyes and squeezed them shut. "She is gone and I am losing myself, Elrond."

Elrond stood up. "That's it then," he said briskly. "You need to sleep." He moved to the door and called out for another healer. The one who had been with Cyllessil earlier came to the door. Thranduil looked at him but could not recall his name. "See to the Queen, Taeron," Elrond said quietly to the healer. Elrond dropped his voice even lower "And see to it that Cireth makes me a sleeping draught for the King now."

"Yes, my lord," the healer replied, slipping away again quickly.

Elrond moved back to the bed. "Come, Thranduil."

"Let me stay with her, Elrond. Please." Thranduil whispered. Elrond looked down at his friend.

"I will let you stay until the healers come for her. Then you will go to your room with me and you will get some sleep, mellon. You cannot ride to your son if you do not sleep." Elrond answered.

Thranduil curled around Cyllessil again as Elrond stepped out to check on his healers. He was still in the same position when Elrond returned with Taeron and Cireth a little later, a cup in his hand.

"Thranduil, come my friend. Let the healers see to Cyllessil. And I will see you to your room myself." Thranduil allowed Elrond to help him up. To Elrond's surprise he allowed Elrond to put an arm around his waist to support him as they walked. Elrond doubted if Thranduil even knew his arm was there.

Elrond made sure Thranduil was at least sitting in the chair in front of the fireplace before he left the room. Thranduil had refused to get in bed and had waved away the cup Elrond tried to give him. Elrond had initially insisted but did not have the heart to argue with Thranduil. Not now. He placed the cup on the table next to the King, after getting Thranduil's assurance that he would drink it. Elrond touched his friend gently on the arm. "I will return in a few hours time, Thranduil. Please. Get some sleep. You will be no good on the road home without rest, mellon."

"I am not a child, Elrond," Thranduil growled. "I will rest."

Elrond took one last look, before he shut the door. Thranduil was still in the chair, glaring at the empty fireplace.

He sat in the chair, staring at the fireplace, remembering the last time he had been in this room. With Cyllessil. He leapt up from the chair and moved across the room to throw open the balcony doors. He could feel his control slipping. Maybe the air would do him good. He strode out onto the balcony, the wind whipping his hair around his face. He could hear the leaves rustling in the trees. He stared at the tree in front of him and heard Cyllessil's voice in his head. As he had heard it on this very balcony, the words she said to him in the autumn when they stood here together. "In a mood to go sit in this one for awhile?" she had asked him.

The smoldering anger within him, that had first started to build with his uneasy sensation near the borders of Lothlorien, finally burst forth. He had held it in when he had found Cyllessil's knife. He had held it in so he could focus on the trail. He had held it in when he had found the injured guards, when he had finally found Cyllessil, during the whole ride to Imladris with her in his arms. He had held it in when he was sitting in the healing chambers. He could hold it in no more.

Thranduil stalked back into the room. He stood in front of the fireplace where he had bantered with his wife and then began to pace. With a wordless cry of rage he knocked the cup of medicine off the table. He kicked over the chair and roared again. The decanters of wine along the countertop went next. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and lost what last bit of control he might have still had.

"My lord! My lord Elrond!" Elrond heard Lindir's voice from where he sat with Celebrian. He seemed on the edge of panic. Elrond rose from his seat and moved to open the door but before he got there the door swung open to reveal a very flustered Lindir.

"Lindir, whatever is the matter?" Elrond asked.

"Lord Elrond, it's the King!" Lindir answered, "You must come!"

Cireth put her head in the room. "Elrond?" she asked, looking at Lindir with a perplexed expression on her face.

"Cireth, stay with Celebrian. I will go with Lindir and see what he is fussing about." Elrond said to the healer, as he swept out of the room, Lindir following after him.

"Lindir, what is going on?" Elrond demanded as they moved into the hallway.

"My lord, we heard noises coming from King Thranduil's chambers. Glorfindel went to make sure the King was all right but the door was locked from the inside." Lindir explained.

"What kind of noises?" Elrond asked, his worry mounting with each step. He was convinced Thranduil had not taken the healing draught.

"Crashes and glass breaking, Lord Elrond. Among other things." Lindir stated.

They were near Thranduil's chambers now and Elrond could not hear any noise other than Glorfindel bellowing in the hallway outside Thranduil's room.

"Thranduil! Open up!" Glorfindel shouted, pounding on the door. "Thranduil. Let me in."

Elrond found his keys and motioned for Glorfindel to move aside. "From the sound of it I think he's rearranged all the furniture," Glorfindel informed Elrond.

"I can deal with rearranged furniture. Let me handle this, Glorfindel." He found the right key and bent to place it in the lock. "Lindir, I'll let you know when you can send someone to clean up whatever mess I find." Elrond unlocked the door and opened it slightly. "Thranduil. It's Elrond. I am coming in, my friend." Elrond pushed the door fully open and entered the room.

Thranduil was sitting on the floor, his head on his knees. The glitter of broken glass and the shards of the shattered mirror were all around him. The balcony doors were open and the breeze blew the curtains into the room.

Elrond gently picked his way through the pattern of glass shards and broken furniture until he reached Thranduil. Thranduil's hands were clasped around his knees, the knuckles bleeding freely from the lacerated skin, his silver-gold hair shadowing his face.

Elrond squatted in front of his friend. "Thranduil." he said softly. "Thranduil," he repeated when he got no response. Thranduil slowly raised his head to meet Elrond's eyes. Elrond felt a chill that had nothing to do with the open balcony doors. The cold was all in Thranduil's eyes.

"I am sorry for the damages to your chambers, Elrond." Thranduil said in a clipped, curt voice. "I will certainly recompense you for it."

Elrond drew back. "Thranduil, mellon-nin. It is nothing. Do not concern yourself with the contents of this room. They are nothing to me." He paused, uncomfortable with the flat countenance he saw on his friend's face. "Come, let me have a look at those hands of yours." Elrond reached out his own hand to Thranduil.

"They're fine." Thranduil snapped.

"They are not fine and you know it, Thranduil." Elrond said warily, worry for his friend growing as he took in the tone of voice as well as the distant look in the King's eyes. "Now come to the healing chambers with me. I must at least clean out the glass if you are to grasp a sword properly again!" Elrond grasped at something that might jar Thranduil out of this coldness, this distance.

"Let me be, Elrond." Thranduil growled, his tone growing sterner.

"I will let you be once you let me take care of your hands. You have my word on that." Elrond bargained.

Thranduil lifted his head to him, the same cold, distant, expressionless gaze making Elrond shiver again.

"Very well. If you insist." Thranduil fluidly rose from the floor and crossed to the door, exiting the room to the hallway, with Elrond hurrying after him.

They passed Glorfindel in the hall, who moved towards the Elven King. "Thranduil, are you all right?" he asked, eyebrows furrowed with concern.

Thranduil turned his head to look at the Balrog-slayer coldly, tilted his head and replied "Why ever would you think I was not, Glorfindel?" in clipped tones that brooked no answer. He swept past Glorfindel, not even sparing a glance for Lindir or the other Elves of Elrond's household that had gathered. Elrond followed him to the healing chambers, a sense of dread growing in him.

Thranduil stood on the steps of Elrond's house, trying not to remember the last time he had stood in this very spot. Elrond, the twins and Glorfindel stood near. Thranduil ranged his eyes over the company gathered in front of him. What little remained of the guard he had left here last autumn was standing with the company that had ridden with him from the Greenwood this spring, ready to go at his word.

He turned imperiously to Glorfindel. "I must thank you again for your part in the rescue, Glorfindel." He nodded at Elladan and Elrohir, then addressed his next words to them. "And yours as well, Peredhel." Thranduil adjusted his cloak and turned to Elrond. He stared at Elrond expressionlessly for a minute, then tilted his head to the right and continued to maintain his frigid gaze. "My thanks to you, Elrond, for your assistance at this time and my apologies for the destruction of my room." He nodded slightly and turned to go down the steps.

"Thranduil." Elrond stopped him, a hand to his chest.

Thranduil looked pointedly at the hand on his chest then at Elrond's face. He tilted his head questioningly, but the expressionless look on his face did not alter.

"Safe travels, my friend." Elrond said kindly. "I do not have the words to convey the depths of my sadness and regret, Thranduil. You will be ever in my thoughts until I see you again." Elrond put his arms around Thranduil and pulled him into an embrace. Thranduil remained stiff in his arms, barely tolerating the gesture, not responding or returning it. Elrond let him go finally, realizing he was not going to get a response.

"Give our love to Legolas," he added.

"Of course," Thranduil nodded curtly.

"We would love to have him visit again, hir-nin," added Elrohir.

Thranduil looked coldly at Elrohir and then tilted his head again. "I believe his duties in the Greenwood will be keeping him far too busy for travel, Elrohir." He narrowed his eyes. "I will convey your greetings to him." Thranduil surveyed the company in front of them again. He paused as if in thought and then added in a tight voice "May healing find your wife, Elrond." He strode down the steps without looking at Elrond.

He motioned to his company to mount and looked back from his mount one time to the small group gathered on the steps. He gave the minutest nod of his head.

Elrond quickly glided down the steps to stand by Thranduil's horse and looked up at his friend. "Come back to us, Thranduil. You know you are always welcome here, mellon-nin."

Thranduil kept his gaze straight ahead, not looking down at Elrond. "I believe my time will also be kept busy with the Greenwood." He finally looked down at Elrond, his face like a mask. "I do not anticipate to return here at any time in the future."

"But Thranduil! The tree we planted for Cyllessil will be here. . ." Elrond stopped as Thranduil cut him off with a sudden motion of his hand.

"There is nothing for me here, Elrond." He glared down at Elrond. "And I can certainly plant my own tree." He turned his horse away without a look back and the small Greenwood escort moved to accompany him towards the mountain path leading to the High Pass.

Elrond was left standing, staring after Thranduil. Glorfindel came down the steps to stand beside him and put his hand on Elrond's shoulder. "He's hurting Elrond, anyone can see that."

"Of course he's hurting, Glorfindel. Cyllessil was his world." Elrond paused, his eyes following the tall, proud figure on horseback. "I do not think he will be back. This is a not a place of happiness or peace for him now." He shook his head as he watched his friend disappear around the curve of the path. "He is building his walls, Glorfindel. He built them after Oropher died but Cyllessil had managed to knock them all down. I think this time they will not come down again."

Elladan and Elrohir had moved near. "Do you really think he won't let Legolas come visit us, Ada?" Elladan asked.

Elrond sighed. "I don't know what Legolas will do. This will be hard news for him to bear, especially to bear alone." He shook his head again as Elrohir began to speak. "No, Elrohir, I do not think Thranduil will share this burden of grief with his son. He is dealing with it the only way he can and that is to shut the world out." He put his arms around his sons' shoulders and looked from one to the other. "And we will deal with what happens with your mother the only way we know—together." He squeezed their shoulders as he took a last look at the Mirkwood guards now moving out of sight.

Thranduil felt the miles go past him as he drew away from Imladris. He had lied to Elrond when he said there was nothing for him in Imladris. He was leaving what was most precious to him in life there.


End file.
